Never trust the stepmother who suggests a gentle stroll through the woods. The lover who tells you that of course you haven't put on weight. The Botox inspired cosmetic company who states their product will make you young. Tin men who claim they don't have hearts and lions who growl that they have no courage.
Never trust yourself when eating Green and Blacks milk chocolate. Look with suspicious eyes upon all politicians and banks. Always carry breadcrumbs upon your person to find the path home again.
And most of all: never trust real-estate agents. "Our" Big Brick house went for over 1.25 million...
And to add insult to injury they phoned us to gloat over the price. "Your estimate was so near!" the agent marvelled, omitting the part where they pretended it would sell in the high 800s. And the final salt rubbed in the wound: “Of course, it needs a lot of renovation,” the agent said.
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Following on from my previous post about life in Little Brick Cottage, it must be said that on the weekend I fell in love with little Brick's big sister – Big Brick! I had resisted looking at her for a few weeks, despite the Scribe's urging, as I knew she would be out of our price range.
However, on a sunny Saturday I had some shopping to do and so I went to inspect the house the Scribe was so enthusiastic about. I've often developed crushes on houses (my current book is based around a certain real house in Tasmania) but never have I experienced falling desperately in love with a pile of bricks and mortar from the moment I walked in the door.
It felt as if the house breathed me into her very bricks, as if she was as excited to see me as I was to view her. She was truly magnificent. The Scribe had already described in loving detail all her glories and so I was prepared -but not quite ready for how perfect she really was.
She wasn't grand, there was still work to do on the old lady; she had a shabby side. She was a three-bedroom, very pretty Victorian house. She had my favourite feature (exposed brick) and a perfect wooden staircase.
The staircase made my heart sing. It was like a staircase from a children's book leading to a magical land above. And indeed the rooms above were magical for space and storage! I'm sure Narnia would fit in the lovely massive built-in wardrobe. I'm sure our Little Brick Cottage would fit in that wardrobe! Add a truly perfect series of stained glass windows and the brick kitchen even had the original servant's bells.
I wandered through her as if in a dream. I could hear the laughter and whispers of the many children who had lived and played within her walls. This was a house of friendly ghosts.
The Scribe had been so smitten when he had viewed her that he hadn't wanted to leave. He had heard many viewers complaining about 'our house' – even having the audacity to mention open-planning and modernizing her!
When I could finally tear myself away I was almost in tears. For a short time I could see my family living, loving and restoring Big Brick to what she deserved.
The real-estate agent asked me if I liked the house and, all reason long departed, I enthusiastically said I did. How much do you think she will go for?" was his next sneaky question. Still shaking like a lunatic in love, I whispered the sorrowful truth. "Over a million." He looked shocked at the honest reply. I could see he was frantically trying to work out whether this was some new mind game I was playing with him.
"Nah," he said. "I'd say mid-800s to early 900s".Previously they had told the Scribe the auction would start at the early 900s.
"We'll see," I said, resisting the temptation to push him out the door and barricade myself within. I retired to the nearby churchyard to listen to a magpie sing a doleful song about foolish girls who look at houses priced above their budget and fall in love with Big Bricks.
Fingers crossed the new moon brings some good fortune our way! As I told the Scribe – if we miss this one, there'll be something even better ahead for us! We'll attend the auction on Saturday and pray it will be passed in until we are in a position to buy her!
Have you ever had an experience like that, where you feel irrationally in love with something that wasn't a human being? A pile of bricks? Shoes? Some other item? Post and tell me if you did and share your wild irrational longing with me!
